


Nightmare

by HopeCoppice



Series: Du Fortunesa [3]
Category: Young Dracula
Genre: Character Study, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-02
Updated: 2012-03-02
Packaged: 2017-11-01 00:44:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/350116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeCoppice/pseuds/HopeCoppice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bertrand finds himself experiencing his worst nightmare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Follow-up to 'Therapy' and 'Introspection'. Spoilers for all of series 3. Cross-posting to Fanfiction.net.

Bertrand’s gaze swept around the crowded room, taking in the cold, harsh features of each Council member before settling to rest on Vlad once again. The young leader of the vampires was not looking at him, however, beckoning one of the elders forward. After a brief pause, the stranger turned to Bertrand.

“Bertrand du Fortunesa. You stand accused of treason, in that you did knowingly steal the Praedictum Impaver, rightful property of the Chosen One, in an attempt to seize power for yourself. You are further charged with theft, that you did intend to drain the Grand High Vampire’s pet slayer without permission. How do you answer these charges?”

Bertrand drew himself up to his full height, belatedly realising what was actually happening. He had known he would have to explain his actions sooner or later, he simply hadn’t expected to have to do so in front of the entire Council. He began speaking, expressing his regret for his actions, trying to explain, but his voice became more and more desperate as he made his case, and the Council looked distinctly unimpressed. He couldn’t even understand what he was saying, let alone control it, and an unfamiliar panic was threatening to overpower him when Vlad finally held up his hand, cutting off his clumsy words.

The courtroom fell silent as Bertrand stared up at the figure enthroned before him. His student had never looked more like the Grand High Vampire, and he was a sight to behold. Hand still imperiously raised for silence, the boy looked as if he had ruled the vampire world for centuries, despite his young age. The regal beckoning motion of his hand allowed his father to step forward, looking a little irked by the need to ask permission to speak from his own son.   
“There is one other charge, Vl- _your Grandness_ , if I may...” Those dark, evil eyes met Bertrand’s as the Count continued. “This disgrace to the name of vampire has abused his position of trust in the Chosen One’s household in an attempt to manipulate and seduce one Vladimir Dracula, Grand High Vampire.”

A ripple of shock ran around the courtroom as Bertrand continued to stare rigidly at the Count, who had turned to observe his son’s reaction. The accused didn’t dare look, didn’t dare move in case he gave himself away. The accusation was unfair and inaccurate, but he knew that it would not appear that way to the Council. Worse, Vlad might believe it. Bertrand’s gaze wavered involuntarily and his eyes snapped up to meet the Chosen One’s.

Gone was the impassive, superior visage of the leader of his kind; Vlad Count, the vulnerable schoolboy, now stared down from the throne like a rabbit caught in car headlights. A long moment passed, in which Bertrand knew he should look away, but he couldn’t seem to break eye contact. For the first time, Vlad spoke.   
“Is that true?” His voice was flat, but there was a slight tremble to it and Bertrand wanted to scream at him for letting himself seem vulnerable in front of these powerful elders.  Instead, all he could do was shake his head and hope they believed him. Somehow, though, he heard words – terrible, incriminating words – slipping between his fangs before he could stop them.   
“It isn’t like that.” Every eye in the room was on him now, but he couldn’t break away from Vlad’s gaze, the tension in the room becoming unbearable as time slipped away and nobody moved. “I didn’t... I wouldn’t take advantage of you, Vlad. You have to believe me. I would never let my feelings interfere with your training.”

Vlad’s expression hardened, his face unreadable.   
“You do have... feelings, then?” He stood, shooting a warning glare at the Count, who was about to speak. “Answer me!” The power in his voice was tangible as he barked the order, and Bertrand had no choice but to obey.   
“You are the entire focus of my existence. Some attachment was inevitable.”

The Council began to mutter at that, but Bertrand barely noticed the voices around him, waiting for Vlad to react. Would he understand? Might he even be reassured, safer in the knowledge that his tutor’s loyalty was motivated by the strongest of regards? Then again, the boy was clever, and would probably realise soon enough that his takeover bid had been partly due to his feelings of rejection...

Vlad’s eyes flashed with something – anger, betrayal, confusion? it was gone too fast for Bertrand to read – and he gestured to the vampires nearest to his valet. They pushed him to his knees as Vlad descended from the throne.   
“All those sparring matches, you...?” Bertrand hastened to correct him.   
“No, it wasn’t like that. I don’t, I never wanted-” The Chosen One cut him off before he could embarrass them both any further.   
“Silence! I will consult with the Council.”

The consultation was brief and silent – the boy had really improved on his telepathy – and then Vlad looked down at the floor for a moment. Telepathic discussions be damned, Bertrand was under no illusions; in this court, Vlad was judge, jury and... The boy looked up.   
“Bertrand du Fortunesa... I find you guilty of treason.” His voice trembled on the word, and he cleared his throat. The Chosen One glanced at his father, apparently seeking confirmation, and the disgraced tutor realised that he was looking for a way around an old law about who administered punishment for such a crime. _Judge,  jury and executioner._

He knew what was coming even before Vlad spoke again.   
“Bring me a stake.” The look of disgust and betrayal in his protégé’s eyes was all that he could see before the courtroom crumbled into dust, and Bertrand fought his way free of his shroud, taking a moment to regain his bearings.

School would have finished by now. He had to find Vlad and swear his allegiance, now. He never wanted to see that expression on Vlad’s face because of him again.


End file.
